


Infinite

by madi_solo



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Action, Adventure, Ben Solo - Freeform, Drama, Epic, F/M, Hux - Freeform, Kylo Ren - Freeform, Luke Skywalker - Freeform, POV Kylo Ren, POV Rey (Star Wars), Post-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Rey - Freeform, Reylo - Freeform, Romance, Snoke - Freeform, Star Wars - Freeform, The Force Awakens, Thriller
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-06-10 04:47:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6940408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madi_solo/pseuds/madi_solo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following the destruction of Starkiller Base, Kylo Ren returns to Snoke scarred and broken, while Rey takes the next step on her journey by beginning her training under legendary Jedi Master Luke Skywalker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall free me.”

He turned away from the faded inscription that was carved into the ancient obelisk. Walls of stone and foreboding shadows enveloped him—the ruins of a long-forgotten temple. The passage was dimly lit, streaks of red sunlight seeping through cracks in the ceiling, and an ominous wind howled through the wastes beyond. He made his way silently through the dusty halls, helmet clutched beneath his arm and pressed firmly to his side. There was an ache in his gut, a profound agony that struck far deeper than the Wookie’s crossbow. It was familiar, this emptiness. However, it seemed only to grow with each passing moment—with each loss. He had passed the test—Snoke would be pleased. Partially, at least. The girl had escaped him, along with the map to Luke Skywalker. 

His victories tasted stale, and his failures only served to weigh him down with increasing bitterness and self-loathing. He closed his eyes, the freshly carved scar branded into his skin—sustained by none other than the blade of his grandfather’s lightsaber—in the hands of a scavenger, no less. But she was more than just a scavenger, he had realized. No...she was far more than that. 

The mouth of the corridor opened into a vast, empty chamber with crumbling effigies around its perimeter. At the center of the room was a single chair, and seated upon it was a gaunt figure draped in black, his eyes closed and his bald head bowed. Slivers of red light glanced off of deformed features, a cloud of dust particles hovering between them. Pale, slender fingers curled over the arms of the chair tightened as Kylo Ren knelt in silence. Slowly, Supreme Leader Snoke raised his head. 

“Welcome home, Kylo Ren.”

His voice resonated throughout the chamber, but the young man remained perfectly still, eyes glued to the floor. He could not yet discern the depths of his master’s anger. 

“I sense that you have returned to me without the map,” Snoke paused heavily, “and without the girl.” 

Ren was without excuse, his tongue turned to lead. 

“However, you succeeded in completing the greatest trial you have yet faced. Han Solo is dead.” 

The words struck him unexpectedly, and Ren swallowed, fighting to suppress the guilt that was welling up inside him. 

“Where Vader failed, you have triumphed.”

Instinctively, in an almost childlike manner, he looked up. Snoke’s sunken eyes were observing him carefully, his own expression unreadable. 

“It is time to complete your training. That is why I have summoned you here, to this ancient place.”

“Moraband,” Ren murmured. 

Snoke gestured with a bony hand, “The Sith homeworld: once a bastion of imperial might and a raw conduit of dark side energy. The latter remains true even now, when the Sith are all but extinct. Though their teachings are flawed, there is much to be learned from their Order.”

His hand fell, and his musings ended. It was back to business. “Go—prepare yourself for the trials to come, and inform General Hux that I wish to speak with him.” 

With a stiff nod, Ren stood and started to leave, but Snoke’s voice stopped him in his tracks. 

“Your compassion for the girl is the cause of your failure. Extinguish it.” 

He knew it was true, and he cursed himself for it. Ashamed, he retreated from Snoke’s presence. As he retraced his steps, making his way back to the academy’s dilapidated entrance, words the Supreme Leader had uttered shortly before the destruction of Starkiller Base echoed in his mind: “It isn’t her strength that is making you fail. It’s your weakness.”

Ren’s fingers curled tighter around his mask as he swiftly raised it and pulled it down over his face, concealing his now scarred features from view. Activating a recently repaired access panel, he watched the heavy metallic doors slide open, and blood red light flooded the corridor. Ren raised his hood and stepped out into the rapidly cooling desert air, his boots crunching in the sand. A small, bat-like shuttle with folded wings crouched nearby, and a man wearing a black officer’s uniform that bore the insignia of the First Order waited just outside the doors. Halting, Ren regarded him with disdain. 

“Supreme Leader demands your presence.” 

Hux’s narrowed eyes swiveled in his direction, arms folded over his chest. He made no effort to disguise his arrant hatred, glaring up at his masked rival as he strode haughtily forward and vanished into the shadows beyond. The doors grated shut behind him. 

Kylo Ren was left standing alone beneath the walls of an immense canyon that loomed overhead. The last of the sun’s rays disappeared below the colossal rock formations that were scattered throughout the valley, and darkness descended over the planet. With the dying of the light as it was swallowed by darkness, Ren was reminded of the futility, the foolishness, of the notion that he could ever turn back now.


	2. Chapter 2

Boots crunched and sank deep into sand. A cold but harsh wind whipped across her face, and there was a hole—immaterial, invisible, but made real by the pain it brought. This was not the sort of pain caused by any bodily injury. It was not so simple as to be categorized as physical, psychological, or even emotional. It was simply there—a wound in the Force. Death where there was once life. 

Rey opened her eyes. The connection was broken, gone as swiftly as it had come. It was something beyond her control, something that she could never get rid of no matter how hard she tried. Increasingly often, it descended upon her in brief visions that were all too real, vivid and terrible. She wondered if he knew—the monster who hunted her. Had he formed the link intentionally so as to always be watching her, always be inside her thoughts? Was she doomed to share his agony? 

He had chosen darkness of his own volition, chosen to turn his back on a family that loved him. He had chosen hatred. He had chosen murder. He had been given everything she ever wanted and had thrown it all away. For this reason, she did not pity him.

Rising, Rey pulled on her boots and threw the gray vest Leia had given her over her shoulders. She sighed, legs dangling over the side of her cot as she listened to the metallic groans and creaks of the Millennium Falcon. The old freighter had already become more of a home to her than her makeshift dwelling on Jakku had ever been. Yawning, Rey stood and stretched as she exited her small living quarters and made her way through ship’s circular corridors. R2-D2 beeped a greeting as she passed, and she smiled in return. 

“Good morning to you, too.”

Finally, she reached the exit hatch and picked up her supply pack, which lay conveniently beside it. As she tossed it over her shoulder and prepared to leave, she heard a familiar grunt behind her. Turning, Rey gave the Wookie a sad smile. 

“I don’t think he’s going to change his mind, Chewie. Tell the General that I will return when my training is complete. This is not over yet—not by a long shot.” 

With a resigned moan, he disappeared into the cockpit, and Rey descended the ramp, the doors hissing closed behind her. She was met with a breath of fresh air, her boots making contact with soft green grass. Pausing, she inhaled deeply and closed her eyes for several moments before continuing on. Each day served as a pleasant reminder that she was no longer on Jakku. 

Beginning her ascent of the rocky mountain path, Rey looked to the ocean that encircled the island. It glistened and glittered like a sea of glass in the morning sun, birds calling as they flew overhead. Opening her supply pack, she withdrew a nutrition bar and munched on it as she walked. The air was warm but not unpleasant, its heat offset by a breeze that became steadily more powerful as altitude increased. 

It was not long before she reached the ruins, passing amongst the silent, empty huts that reminded her far more of tombs in a graveyard. Some stood completely intact, untouched by the hands of time, while others had collapsed inward into disheveled mounds of stone. Still others had been reduced to nothing but scattered remains of rocky debris. As little as she knew of the Force, Rey could still feel echoes in this place, whispers of a civilization long forgotten. 

At last, she came to the particular dwelling she had been seeking. Luke’s solitary hut sat on the fringes of the ancient village, a large piece of fabric covering its entrance and concealing whatever lay behind it. Approaching cautiously, Rey heard no sound within, felt no presence. 

“Luke?”

She waited for a reply, but none came. Growing impatient, she pulled back the curtain and poked her head inside. It was empty, save a cot, a bowl and spoon, and an old satchel. Brows furrowing, Rey withdrew and allowed the curtain to fall back into place. Knowing that there was only one other place he was likely to be, she headed off again, resuming her climbing of the Steps. Carved from ancient gray stone, they continued all the way to the mountain’s summit, where the ground finally leveled out into a small plateau. 

It was some time before Rey reached this place, slightly out of breath and leg muscles burning. Her eyes narrowed in confusion as she strode forward into the grassy clearing, for there was no cloaked figure standing upon the cliff this time. Pillars of rock rose on either side of her, casting long shadows as the sun continued its ascent into a clear blue sky. Despite the fact that there seemed to be no one there, Rey did not feel alone. There was a presence, faint at first but growing stronger.

“This is the path you have chosen to walk, then?”

Startled, she spun to see him standing behind her—Luke Skywalker. His hood was lowered, and he regarded her with heavy eyes. 

“I have no choice,” she answered steadily. 

“We always have a choice,” he corrected, “just as I have chosen exile.” 

The last words came after a slight pause, and Rey could not help but be frustrated by them. However, she had already made her plea, and he had refused to return with her, refused to fight with the Resistance. But she had not come this far to simply give up, and so she had continued to press him until he finally, very reluctantly, agreed to train her. If he would not fight, then she would. 

“You are filled with anger,” Luke went on in a solemn voice, “anger that is deeply rooted in fear. You must learn to control it if you are to become a Jedi.” 

“I will,” she declared. 

He eyed her skeptically, as if he had heard it all before. “The dark side of the Force is not something to be underestimated. If you choose to walk the path of the light, you will be faced with many trials and sufferings. You have much to learn and not long to do it, I feel. Evil does not rest, and darkness follows in your footsteps. It is drawn to you like a beacon, and I sense that it has touched your mind already.” 

A chilling voice whispered in her ear, visions of a dark forest invading her mind. Desperate and determined, Rey stepped forward, every inch of her imploring, pleading. “Then tell me how I can defeat it.” 

The old Jedi bowed his head in silence, shoulders stooped, as if he bore the weight of a thousand worlds. Finally, he raised it again and looked her firmly in the eye, his decision made. “Very well, Rey. Your persistence may become an obstacle to you in the future, but for now, it serves you well. I will pass on what I have learned, and, if the Force wills it, you will be a Jedi.”


	3. Chapter 3

Many dark days passed on Moraband, long hours of pain and suffering. The Supreme Leader’s training was ruthless, intending to drive out whatever fragments of the light still lingered inside Kylo Ren. His apprentice knew this but made no complaint, for he was resolved to commit himself fully to the darkness. Despite the blow his father’s death had dealt, Ren could feel his power growing, sense his mind expanding. There was ancient knowledge in this place, secrets of a long-forgotten empire.

The air itself hummed with dark side energy. He could almost taste it as he took the desert path that wound steadily downward until it opened into what was once the Valley of the Dark Lords. Now, it was little more than a decimated graveyard. Its grand monuments and pillars had fallen, and many of the tomb’s entrances had caved in. However, there was one structure that remained largely intact, a mausoleum that stood proudly against the afternoon sky. 

It was to this place that Ren’s master had commanded him to go for his final test, the test that would complete his training. Evil things dwelt in the valley’s catacombs, unholy spirits that would test him, mind, body, and soul. But Ren was confident in his ability to triumph over the schemes of specters. He paused at the structure’s entrance and looked up at the rectangular archway. Runes were carved into its sandy stones. They spoke of wicked things that he could read only in part. 

Steeling himself for the assault he was set to endure, Ren inhaled deeply and extended his gloved hand towards the thick set of doors that lay within the arch. Reluctantly, they slid open, after much groaning and protest. When they grated to a halt, the sound reverberated through the shadowy passages beyond, disturbing primeval spirits that had been long brooding in the dark. For all their conniving, it had been some years since they had been provided with a living victim upon whom to impose their trickery. Concealed in the gloom, they watched with eager eyes as Ren crossed their cursed threshold. 

Without any action on his part, the doors closed ominously behind him, and dust particles were shaken loose from the ceiling. They fell onto the hood of his cloak and cascaded over his shoulders before fading away into the darkness. Then there was silence. All Ren could hear was the sound of his own breathing.

Here, the Force was suffocating, confined to the extent that it stifled the air.

Cautiously, he ventured down the first passage, making several turns before he saw anything other than disheveled stones. Entering a larger, more cavernous chamber, he saw that there were sarcophagi lining each wall, smothered by layers of dust. Vague outlines of various alien races were carved into each surface, all representing a former Sith Lord. There were inscriptions in foreign tongues, but Ren did not bother to read them. His right hand was hovering near the hilt of his crossguard saber, for he sensed that danger was rapidly approaching. 

There was an ear-splitting shriek behind him, and three beams of red light cut through the darkness. There was a strange sound, as of air being sucked out of a raspy throat, and a pile of bones clattered onto the floor. They glowed as if branded by fire, smoke curling from the ashes where Ren’s blade had incinerated them. He turned slowly in a circle, raising the hilt to his shoulder as his head swiveled in all directions. 

A sarcophagus cracked open on his right as another animated corpse lunged at him from the left. He sliced it easily in half before dismembering the third, which had risen and climbed out of its own grave. Ren waited for more, but they did not come. 

“Have you learned your lesson?” he mocked, his voice resonating abnormally amidst the silence of the tombs. 

His saber deactivated with a hiss, and he lingered a moment more before entering another long, black corridor. Here, he perceived that the walls were beginning to glow with a faint red light, energy crackling audibly over the ancient stone. The dark side was getting stronger. 

“Ben!”

He stopped, listening. 

“Ben!” the voice called again. It was faint and indistinguishable, but it was there. 

“Who are you?” he replied. “Show yourself.”

No answer. Ren continued into the next chamber, which was circular and eerily empty save for the alcoves in the walls, which contained stone effigies that towered above him. He felt strange, as if many eyes were watching him, but he could see nothing. A low voice began to speak, and it fell like a single drop into a pool of water. The ripple grew and grew until it was a chorus of them, voices crying and wailing and pleading for mercy. 

“You were one of us! We trusted you with our lives! It’s not too late! Turn back!”

“Jedi Killer,” said another voice, lower and more threatening. 

Ren turned to see Luke Skywalker standing before him. His former teacher was bathed in red light, his face weary, burdened with anger, loss, and betrayal. 

“You wanted me to be weak,” Ren countered, “to squander my talents. You were always envious of my potential.”

“It is far easier to fall into darkness than to remain on the path of the light.”

In a burst of anger, he hurled his blade, but it passed harmlessly through the apparition before spinning back to his hand. Luke vanished, only to be replaced by others who stepped out of the shadows. Ren’s arm fell uselessly to his side when he realized that one of them was his mother. There were tears in her eyes. 

“You killed him,” she accused, her brown gaze piercing the depths of his soul. “I will never forgive you for what you’ve done.” 

“You’re pathetic,” sneered Hux. 

“Always will you be in Vader’s shadow,” said Lor San Tekka. 

Han looked on silently, a gaping hole in his chest where the saber had impaled him. The profound sorrow and regret in his eyes drove Ren to his knees, his own scream ringing in his ears. His deactivated hilt rolled across the floor as his hands flew to his head. 

“Enough!” he bellowed, and silence fell once more. 

At last, Ren opened his eyes and surveyed the room. The visions were gone, and the stone figures seemed to gaze down at him scornfully. He was ashamed, ashamed that he had been driven to madness so easily. Standing, he called the saber back to his hand and hooked it on his belt. Ren took a moment to gather himself, for there were surely more traps such as these lying in wait. 

There was a sudden groaning as a concealed door opened directly ahead of him. Through it lay a small burial chamber containing a single tomb, at the feet of which were set many urns. Slowly, he entered, resigning himself to face whatever ill will that was certain to strike at him from the shadows. Ren stiffened when the door shut behind him with a dull thud.

“At last, we meet again.”

He knew that voice. Turning, he saw her standing there, the girl from his visions, the scavenger from Jakku. It was only now, after everything that had transpired on Takodana and Starkiller Base that he finally knew what to call her—Rey. 

“You’re not real,” he said.

“Of course I am.” She laughed, but there was no amusement in her voice. 

“Why have you come?”

Her smile faded, her features becoming cold. “Isn’t it obvious? I made the mistake of letting you go before. This time, only one of us will walk away.” 

Without hesitation, she drew his grandfather’s lightsaber from her belt, its single blue blade springing to life. Rey charged at him with a fierce cry, and he met her saber with his own. Flashes of red and blue lit up the tomb as both of them delivered one strike after another. After parrying a particularly aggressive blow from Rey, Ren was finally able to knock her off balance and send her stumbling backwards onto the floor. Smirking, he lowered his blade until it hovered just inches from her neck. 

“Kill her!” a harsh voice commanded. 

He hesitated, her eyes glancing up and meeting his own. They were brown, that much he noticed, but there was something else, something strange drawing him in against his will. His surroundings melted away and engulfed him in complete darkness, utterly alone. As if from across a great distance, he saw an ocean where rocky cliffs rose out of the sea. Away he flew, and when he looked again, there was a graveyard of ships passing below him. 

“Here lies a seed with the power to unmake worlds.”

Ren opened his eyes. He was lying on the floor of the tomb. He sat up slowly, attempting to understand what he had just seen. The island he was aware of, but the rest of the vision was…intriguing, to say the least. 

Ren stood as a door opened to his left, and the narrow passage that lay beyond soon brought him to another door. The air was less stifling here, and he did not hesitate to slide open the rectangular slab of stone. Squinting into the sunlight that suddenly flooded the corridor, Ren shielded his eyes and emerged from the mausoleum. He never thought that he would be so relieved to find himself in a valley full of sand. Throwing back his hood, he removed his helmet with a click and took a deep breath of non-musty air. 

Ren stood there for a long while, contemplating all that he had just endured and attempting to discern what Snoke would have to say when he delivered his report. He was certain to be disappointed with his handling of the apparitions, but Ren was convinced that his failures would pale in comparison to his vision of the ultimate weapon.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who have read, commented, bookmarked, or left kudos on this story. I appreciate every single one of you, and I offer my sincerest apologies for taking so long to write a new chapter. Life got in the way, but now I am back with Chapter 4! Please tell me what you think of it. I love feedback, positive or negative, and I promise that the next chapter will not be so long in coming!

Rey bolted upright. Her chest heaved, her body drenched in a cold sweat. Her clothes stuck unpleasantly to her skin as she sat there in the dark, pondering what she had just seen. She had awoken in some ancient tomb, buried alive in a stone sarcophagus. Panicking as her supply of oxygen had rapidly decreased, Rey had pushed off the lid and climbed out, finding herself in an empty, dusty chamber that provided limited visibility. Feeling her way blindly along the wall, she had at last discovered a door and shoved it open after thrusting the entirety of her weight against it. She had wandered down a long, narrow corridor that was filled with strange, flickering red lights before coming into a circular chamber whose ceiling vanished into the shadows high above her head. Squinting, she had seen a tall, hooded figure standing in the adjacent room. Its back was facing her, and though a sense of impending danger threatened to overwhelm her, Rey had found herself approaching it, drawing steadily nearer until the path behind her was suddenly sealed shut. Then the masked figure had turned to face her—Kylo Ren. It seemed that haunting her waking thoughts was not enough for him. 

“At last, we meet again.” The voice was hers, but she had no control over it. 

“You’re not real,” he had said flatly.

This had taken her aback. He saw her, knew she was there. That had not occurred since the vision that had come to her in Maz’s castle. Typically, her strange hallucinations were from his point of view, as if she were a part of him—as if she were him.

“Of course I am,” Rey replied, but a strange laugh echoed in her ears. 

“Why have you come?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I made the mistake of letting you go before. This time, only one of us will walk away.” 

No! She had not chosen those words. Why were her lips moving against her will? Angrily, she had ignited her lightsaber and charged at him, just like before, but the movements were not her own. She was there, she was present, but only as a spectator. No—worse than a spectator. She was a puppet. 

Ren had defeated her, threatened to kill her, but then something neither of them had expected ripped them from the tomb, carried them over Ahch-To, across oceans, and showed them a graveyard of metal. The sight of thousands of skeletal, dismembered ships had been all too familiar for Rey, who had instantly recoiled and sought to escape the vision. But there was nothing she could do. 

“Here lies a seed with the power to unmake worlds.” 

The voice had been low and unnervingly calm, sending a chill up her spine as it reverberated across a black hole of time and space, threatening to pull her in and drown her in its emptiness. Then she had fallen, plunging into the ocean’s raging waters. They had risen to meet her and swallowed her whole, dragging her down, down…

Rey opened her eyes again in a desperate attempt to banish this nightmare, rising and tearing off the shirt that clung to her skin. Breathing hard, she moved feverishly to the nearest cargo container and mashed a button, which caused the lid to slide open. She bent down and reached inside, withdrawing a fresh garment and pulling it down over her head, then her shoulders. Gathering her wits about her, Rey grabbed her knapsack, which was already stocked with a fresh supply of nutrition bars and a canteen filled with water. She slung it over her shoulder, casting a wistful glance at her staff, which stood in the opposite corner.

She was in the midst of her third week of training with Luke, and still, he had not allowed her to train with a weapon even once. Instead, she had spent long hours sitting, breathing, and thinking. These sometimes insufferable sessions were interrupted by exhausting climbs up and down the mountainside, which he claimed were to maintain her physical conditioning, but Rey knew better. They were his way of rewarding her when she had completed an exercise with sufficient patience and focus. All her life, she had been on the move, traversing never-ending miles of sand dunes, exploring the carcasses of freighters that had been stripped bare, gathering parts and supplies—maintaining her own survival.

To remain completely still and serene for lengthy stretches of time was difficult for her, especially when her increasingly familiar foe invaded her thoughts. She tried to block him out, struggled to follow Luke’s instructions, but to no avail. Something had irrevocably changed that day. A single encounter with Kylo Ren had activated her previously dormant connection to the Force, and now she could never shut it off, this strange link that had formed between them. It was getting worse, and that terrified her. She wanted him gone. She wanted this link severed. 

Rey did not bother to put on her vest before leaving her modest living quarters. She was far too distracted and anxious to escape the confined corridors of the Falcon. Besides, at the moment, the mere thought of anything that even remotely reminded her of the name Solo put her off. Artoo chirped cheerfully as she passed, but Rey took no heed of him. Her mind was elsewhere, somewhere at the bottom of the ocean, fighting for breath. 

**********

When she finally reached Luke’s hut, Rey tore open the flap and stormed inside. The old Jedi sat cross-legged beside the embers of a dying fire, the last of its smoke rising through a circular hole in the roof. There was a small wooden bowl in his hands, half-filled with a strange, soupy substance, and he was lifting a spoonful of it to his lips.

“Luke!” Her posture was assertive, but her voice was trembling. “I’ve got to get rid of him—now. The exercises aren’t working. We’ve got to try something else.” 

He paused, glancing up at her with thoughtful eyes. Slowly, he lowered the spoon and the bowl and set them aside. “The vision was different this time,” he observed, leaning toward her. “What did you see?” 

With a heavy sigh, Rey sat down and allowed her pack to slide off her shoulders. Then she proceeded to tell him everything, repeating some parts when he pressed her for more details. When she finished, she stared long and hard at the ground, embarrassed by her lack of control. Luke said nothing for some time, pondering her words in silence. 

“A graveyard of ships…” he said finally in a low voice. “That could indicate any planet that has suffered the ravages of war. But you said it was beautiful?”

“Yes,” Rey answered haltingly. “It was…like paradise.” 

“Interesting.” He stroked his bearded chin, pensive, and when he next spoke, his words emerged as scarcely more than a whisper. “A seed with the power to unmake worlds…”

Brow furrowed with concern, she watched him contemplate the vision until he raised his head and met her gaze once more. 

“The Force often speaks to us in riddles, and I believe that what you have seen is only a small piece of a larger puzzle. We cannot hope to discern its true meaning—not yet. We must trust the Force to guide us down the correct path.” 

“So that’s it then?” she demanded, voice catching in her throat. “We sit around and wait for Kylo Ren and his master to find it first? A planet-destroying weapon? I’ve seen what the First Order will do when it possesses power of that magnitude. The entire Hosnian system—"

“I know what they’ve done,” Luke snapped suddenly, blue eyes blazing. “Populations enslaved, billions of lives lost, entire planets reduced to stardust—all at the hands of the Empire. I saw the Death Stars, and I fought to destroy them. Evil is always there, lurking in the shadows, even when you’re sure that you’ve defeated it. It festers in the hearts of those you trust, waiting for the moment when you lower your guard, waiting to strike.”

Rey stared at him with wide eyes, not daring to speak, to move, or even breathe. His calm, even-tempered exterior had shattered in an instant, revealing the raw, wounded man beneath. She had not seen him like this since she had first arrived on the island and pleaded for him to save the galaxy just like before. He blamed himself for what had happened: the fall of Ben Solo, the loss of his newly trained Jedi, the rise of the First Order from the ashes of the Empire. He carried the weight of all of it upon his weary shoulders, a burden that was far more than any one man should ever have to bear. 

She instantly regretted her careless choice of words and the ignorance with which she had spoken them. Of course, of _course_ Luke understood the gravity of the situation at hand. He had seen it all before—lived it, survived it, defeated it. Lowering her head, Rey closed her eyes. 

“I’m sorry. That was foolish of me. I shouldn’t have—”

“No,” he interrupted, quiet and steady once more, “the fault is mine. I’ve warned you of the dangers of the dark side but have not told you what it can do when it is acting through someone gifted with immense power. Its destructive capabilities are catastrophic, and its deceptions often go undetected by even the most powerful of Jedi. You need to hear the story of Ben Solo. You need to understand what it is that made him fall, and you need to accept that none of us are invulnerable to it.”

Her heart was pounding, her hands sweating. She was not sure that she wanted to hear this, but Luke did not seem to be giving her much of a choice. Rey’s gaze drifted downward as he prodded the smoldering fire with a stick, rekindling its flames. Taking a slow, deep breath, she braced herself for the tragic tale that was sure to follow.


End file.
